


First Loss

by PlushRabbit



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Reader is gender neutral, Smut, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlushRabbit/pseuds/PlushRabbit
Summary: Comfort smut for Leon after he loses his first battle
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Reader
Kudos: 19





	First Loss

You witness the defeat firsthand. There’s no cheering crowd, no flashes of cameras, just a silent friendly match between friends, a few onlookers but no one cheers, no one shouts or pulls out a camera. They all just stay silent, the flutter of fallen leaves is the only thing that fills the silence. The silence lasts only a second but when you peer over to the Champion, you see his face fall, eyes go wide and his lips move silently, no words, no laugh, they just move wordlessly. It’s a deafening silence, one that makes you hold your breath, go absolutely still and look around to your friends. Eyes meeting and words of agreement are said with merely a look but you don’t understand any of it, it all just falls to blind eyes, eyes that are wide and focused on amber eyes that wide with disbelief.

And then the sound returns. It’s sudden and sharp and you stand up straighter and begin to rise, approaching Leon. 

His smile is back. He’s smiling wide and eyes are squinting, he’s closing the distance between him and the opponent. You hear clapping from the opponent, gravel being crushed underneath him and they’re shaking hands, smiling wide. Smiles too wide and words too rushed.

Before you even realize it, your hand is holding onto Leon’s. He holds your hand a bit too tight, and squeezes your hand. You squeeze back, hoping that the comfort will transfer over.

Words are falling onto empty ears and you spare a glance to Leon. He’s still smiling, standing as tall as ever and congratulating the opponent, joking about the match, his words halting to a stop and before he can wince, he laughs again and pulls you into a side hug. His hand rests on your waist and his thumb is tapping against you. A silent plea to leave. 

You start to speak and come up with a half hearted excuse that you both have places to be, a date night and you both have to freshen up.

Goodbyes are said and the walk back to the shared room is quiet. You chew on your lips nervously, wondering what words you can use to comfort him, what words to avoid. You open your mouth a few times during the short walk, opening and closing it, but if he notices it, he doesn’t show it. Your palm is growing clammy and you want to wipe it off on the side of your pant leg but when you loosen your grip, he holds your hand tighter, nails dig into your skin for a second before he pulls his hand away and shoves it into his jacket pocket, uttering an apology and he keeps his head down.

You only nod your head and step closer to him, your elbow brushing against his and the walk back is silent once more.

-

Leon sits on the couch with head in hands. His hands scratch against his scalp and mess his hair, You can hear him take in deep breaths of air as if he just ran a marathon. You stand unsure of what to do. Your fingers bend and click, palms are sweaty and eyes darting between him and the empty space that surrounds him.

It takes one noise to move you. One small noise that comes from the back of his throat and when you see red rimmed eyes filled with unshed tears, you have him in your arms, peppering kisses against the side of his face and neck.

He holds into you like a lifeline, pressing you close against him until you can feel his heart beat rapidly against yours, beating as if trying to escape whatever turmoil is going on inside.

“I lost.” It’s softer than any whisper you’ve heard, mumbled against your ear and you rub his back, urging him to go on. “I shouldn’t lose. I-” There’s a noise in the back of his throat and he’s silent.

“It’s okay Leon.” You whisper it like a mantra, hoping that he’ll believe it.

There’s no tears being spilled, but you can feel his eyelashes flutter and close against your skin, tickling your skin. You’re filling the silence with your own voice, whispering it against his ear, mumbling across his warm, brown skin. Your legs are getting tired and sore from the awkward crouch that you’re in, they burn with pain at the half squat that you’re doing. You slowly rise, pressing your body against him, your hands pawing against his back in a desperate attempt to show that you’re not leaving.

“My first-”

You quiet him with a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t think about it, Lee.” You mumble against his lips. You press harsh kisses on him, his hands move up and down your back, resting on your side and rubbing circles with his thumbs. 

“I feel bad,” he murmurs. His voice wavers, it’s unsteady and the lump in his throat only half goes away when he swallows.

You nod. With closed eyes, your fingertips brush against his chest and trail downwards, resting above his crotch. 

“This okay?” You ask, your fingers standing on the tips, ready to crawl away if he rejects.

He nods with closed eyes, his tongue coming out and wetting his lips. With a heavy tone in his voice, he says, “Make me feel good.” He presses a deep kiss on you, sucks in your bottom lip and pulls away. His eyes are still closed as he leans backs on the couch and puts his arm across his eyes.

You rest on your knees, the plush carpet providing comfort. With steady hands, you pull down his joggers, he lifts his hips and with a deep red hue already forming, you see his frown tighten, pulling itself into a tight line.

He feels the gentle flutter of kisses among his thighs. They’re fleeting but burn his skin all at once, the heat blooming across him and connecting until he can feel his prick begin to harden. Your hands trail up and down his thighs, nails grazing his skin in dull strokes. You’re alternating your mouth between each thigh, each kiss turning into something more, his thighs clenching when you suck and peck at a spot. His breath catches in his throat when the tip of your nose brushes against his package, his member twitching upwards in response. 

He feels your breath first. It’s warm and inviting, and then your tongue is on him. It’s flat and moves to the base of his shaft slowly, flicking upwards, the tip of your tongue brushes along a small vein. 

He peeks out from behind his arm, his eyes clouded with lust and shame and when you notice, you make eye contact, and bring a hand up to your mouth, swiping the palm with a slow lick and wrapping it around his package, kneading it softly. 

He squirms in his seat, muffling a moan between closed lips and shuts his eyes again until he sees shapes and colors.

His cock is beading with pre-cum, and when you give the tip a kiss, it moves closer to you, the pre-cum staining your lips. You breathe cool air on the tip and then wrap your mouth around it, swirling your tongue and swish your tongue against the tearing slit. 

He whines above you. It’s high and he bites his bottom lip, gnawing on the skin leaving it raw and uneven. He can faintly taste copper.

Your lips wrap around him, the soft touch of your tongue wraps around him, flat and on the underside, swiping at a ridge that makes Leon tense, feeling pre-cum dribble out. You move slowly, your hand covers what you cannot and moves in a twisting motion. It’s a soft grip, fingertips drumming one by one, coming into a firm hold, his cock twitches in your mouth.

“You have such a pretty dick,” you mumble against him, your breath hit and lips soft. “Everything is so pretty about you.” You look up at him, your eyes clouded with desire.

All that Leon can respond with a moan where he throws his head back, his hands falling to the side and gripping the edge of the couch cushions, his nails marking them.

You remove your hand and move underneath him, caressing his balls with shaky hands, your mouth taking him whole. He fills you whole, your mouth is open wide, tongue stroking his underside. Your eyes water and breaths are ragged through your nose as you keep his cock in the back of your throat, sweet noises of gagging are filling his ears, and then it’s ripped away from him all too soon, and your blinking back tears and the burning sensation cools in your throat. 

The grip around his package is firmer, presses them closer than they already were, while your lips kiss up and down his cock. Closed kisses. Open mouthed kisses. Kisses where it’s just your tongue. Kisses that lead down. Where it passes down and your hands come to grip his thighs, nails dragging underneath and pushing him up.

His eyes shoot open, and he presses his hands firm against the cushions, “Wait-”

He can only see the top of your head and feel fleeting kisses pressed on him. He makes an odd sound, one between a realization and pleasure when you nip at him, a teasing little love bite placed on a hidden area. Your tongue is on him. Circling and rimming at the untouched, puckered hole.

You whisper against him, hot breath on him and his crease opens, urging for more to be done. He can’t see your actions but he can feel what you do. He can feel your tongue circle around him- lazy, drawn out circles that go around him.

The hand that covers him is light and massaging, fingers moving around with such lightness that is akin to feathers and it moves across him, fingers massaging into the skin and wrapping around, stroking slowly, the pacing matching the tongue. 

Leon arches his back, fucking himself in your hand, your tongue slipping out of the routine and moving away, slipping and moistening other areas in your wake. You tut against him, clicking your tongue and pushing him down.

“Shit, no, please,” he groans out, his voice low. He’s already so sensitive and feeling the way you encircle around him only brings him closer to the edge.

You rock on your knees, your tongue moving in closer and pulling away, figure eight motion deepening and softening up. You bubble up salvia in your mouth and shove against him, blowing cool air on him. His whole body twitches and pushes towards you, the cock in hand jerks, and you feel liquid begin to seep into your fist. 

He cries out your name, it’s loud and the jerking noises become louder. The clicking sounds are rapid, he’s shaft is twitching in your hands, and he’s begging, repeating please, but he doesn’t end or start his sentence and you continue to work your tongue, plunging into his open hole, moving it around, feeling the inside of the hot, wet cavern. 

His mind is muddled, and he rides his orgasm above you, moaning and pleading for more when he feels your tongue enter him and move around, feeling the hot muscle burn him inside. His member is still being toyed with, the clicking sounds joining him as he cries out. 

You leave him with kisses, kitten licks, with little nibbles on him. You swipe your tongue from bottom to top, face scrunching as the cooling cum that lingers on your tongue. 

“I love everything about you,” you say, eyes looking at his red face, his mouth slack open. “You’re so good Leon.” Hearing his name leave your mouth sends shivers down his spine and he wants your mouth back on him, tasting him, making him squirm with oversensitivity. 

He shuts his eyes when your mout encasses him. The act of not seeing and just feeling, hearing, leaving all trust to you, flares him up. The knot in his stomach ignites and sends waves of pleasure and pricks of pins up and down his cock. 

It’s steady bobbing, hand covering what your mouth cannot, moaning against his quivering member. Cum and drool slipping down and out of sight, the occasional praise being sung to him in a hushed voice. 

He’s already so close again. He can feel it. He knows you can feel it when you look up at him and smile with a mouth full of cock. He drags his hands against his thighs, red lines are left in his wake. He wants to grab you and take you. He wants to feel how soft you are inside, how you’ll warm his cock.

His voice cracks, it’s sharp and slices through your skin, leaving little red lines in its wake and he’s begging. His chest is rising with shuddering breaths, little hiccups breaking his words. A hand is gripping one of the throw pillows, nails dragging along the pillow case creating a dull scratching sound while the other hand is gripping your hair, it’s shaky and is held tight enough where it stings. “Please-” he throws his head back, a moan torn out from his throat, “please let me cum, please.” A lone tear runs down his face, dripping onto his collarbone.

“Say it.” Your words muddle together. You shake your head and his grip loosens. You hollow your cheeks and pull the package, moaning against the sensitive packs. A string of drool drips down and stains the couch. The hand above is working slow, your wrist twisting and and thumb brushing underneath him, the feeling of your nails dragging down has him thrusting, little mewls and shakes of his head are in your peripherals. 

Your mouth wraps around him and he can feel the tightness of your throat, the way it constricts around him, the pushing of it, the desperate want to expel whatever it is that intruding but all the same, it wraps tight around him, encasing the tip of his cock in a warm, wet grip and makes him tingle and sends a shiver down his back. 

You choke on him. Gagging around him, the sounds filling the empty room and he brings his hand down again, rests it flat on the crown of your head and your own hand comes up and presses down above his. He knots his fingers in your hair, nails scratching you, and he holds you down. It starts off with a low choking sound, like a cough that is being pushed down. He can feel your drool trail down him in rivers, it covers his pack leaving them warm and a few trails slip down to his puckered hole where it still gasps open from the previous tonguing. You choke above him, your throat constricting against him, his cock head hitting the back of your throat and when he gives off a few thrusts, barely lifting his bum off the couch, you gag louder and push yourself off of him. Your face is red, tears have trailed down and covered your cheeks and you gasp for breath, holding onto his cock with a clinched grip. His cock is leaking and a painful red paints him.

“You haven’t said it.” You press a kiss on him. A gossamer string attaches to your lips and breaks off.

“I can’t.” His eyes hang heavy, his voice hoarse with admission and he wants to cry. He wants to cry from his first loss, unofficial or not, he wants to cry from the praise, he wants to cry from how you edge him on, he wants to cry from how you witness him break down from a measly blowjob. “‘S to embarrassing.”

“Say it Leon.” You suck on his tip. “Say how good you are. Say how good of a battler you are. How good of a Champion you are.” You press your mouth down until it reaches your hand and pull away. “Just say how good you are Leon.”

He twitches underneath. And in a meek voice that you’ve only heard a handful of times he asks you something and you agree, nodding your head and smiling on the tip of his cock, a toothy grin that kisses his head when he pulses.

“I’m,” he bites his lip and puts a hand on the top of your head, his fingers twisting to grab your hair, “I’m a good person. I’m good,” he breathes out.

He pushes your head down, guiding you with his hand. You’re brought back and forth roughly, your nose always hitting his base and being buried into his public hair. He holds you close against him, loud gagging, choking sounds are music to his ears. His thighs burn when shallow, red lines mark him, your hands have clawed and dug into him. 

You’re speaking to him but words are lost on him. All he can feel is the vibrations against him, your throat closing around him and he can feel himself come closer to his high. You’re tapping against his thigh, but all he needs is just a few more seconds, a few more seconds hearing you choke on him, a few more seconds where he can feel your throat squeeze his cock, where your throat feels tight and spongy all at once. 

He cums with a loud groan, his hand pulling you up slowly, until you rest on his bulbous head, nursing on his cock, savoring his taste and swishing it in your mouth. 

His eyes burn with tears. He looks down and blinks away the blurriness, your mouth coming into view with his spunk in your mouth, and then it disappears down your throat. 

You rise on shaky legs and he holds you close, his cock pressing against your rear. You gasp for air and he wipes away tears, kissing your forehead. 

Breathing fills the room, silent kisses pressed against each other and you hold his hand, squeezing it tight and pressing it against his chest.

“Feel better?” You whisper, blinking away tears that clump together.

“Yeah.” He holds you tighter against him. “Thank you. I really,” he stops. “Thank you so much.” He pulls you closer to him, and silently rocks you, repeating thank you and words of praise to your ears.


End file.
